My Worst Nightmare
by pANpIPE09
Summary: Bella has to face her final days alone...


A.N. I promise that I will return to my other stories, but I need to rattle this off; it's based on a dream that I myself had while I was away from home. I own nothing, Stephanie Meyer is a goddess who owns it all.

My Worst Nightmare

I don't know how he conned me into this. It's bad enough that I have to pretend to go to Dartmouth for the sake of town pride, but actually taking classes when I should be getting into vampire mode? It's almost painful how easily Edward convinced me to sign up for this semester. Maybe it won't be so bad, but I know now how much I'll be teased for being married. At least I can honestly say that pregnancy wasn't the reason, and it never will be. Why do people assume that?

--

I know that Dartmouth is Ivy League, but classes have actually been more straightforward than I expected. I've made a few friends from my Shakespeare class (Edward insisted), and my roommate Marina is such a sweetheart; she always takes Edward's calls when I'm out.

In fact, there's a note for me today as I walk into our room after class. In Mari's curlicue scrawl, it says, "Your husband says call as soon as possible, I would suggest that you do, it sounded urgent" Strange…I open my phone, and hit the second speed dial. The other end rings only once before he picks up: "Bella, thank God!" His tone shocks me; he didn't even say hello…

"Dear, you seem upset, what's wrong?" I ask.

"Alice had a horrible vision, and as you're answering the phone, I'm guessing that you're not yet in mortal danger. Are you going home this weekend?"

"Of course," I say. "I can't miss Thanksgiving and Charlie's famous fried turkey." Edward pretends to gag at the thought.

"Well, I need you to come and stay with us."

"Why?" My voice takes a sudden edge. Edward does not normally command my actions, and he knows I don't like taking orders. "James, Victoria and Laurent are dead, and the Volturi won't touch me…"

"That, my love, is where you are quite wrong. The Volturi is holding Charlie hostage, though he doesn't know it. Unless you get turned within the week, they'll destroy your house with Charlie inside, so I suggest that you come home with us!"

"Edward, for God's sake, I need to think about this!"

"No," and his voice becomes cold, "you decide now!"

I do the unthinkable: "Then I won't let my father die alone!" I practically scream back. "Then goodbye, Bella." He hangs up.

--

Why won't he pick up? He promised that he would never leave me again, we could at least discuss this like civilized people, oh why won't he pick up?

--

The plane starts its descent into Seattle, and I swallow the last of my apple juice. Amazingly, I've been able to keep food down; every time I realize what I'm doing my stomach turns.

Charlie's waiting down at the baggage claim with a big grin on his face. He pulls me into a hug: "Welcome home, kiddo." I smile and thank him.

"Where's my son-in-law?"

To paraphrase Dr. Seuss and the Grinch, I think of a lie and I think of it quick. "The Cullens are vacationing in the Cascades, skiing, I think."

Charlie frowns and mutters something like, "…miserable way for newlyweds to spend their first holiday…" I shrug, and he offers his arm, escorting me to the car.

--

We spend the next few days hunting the grocery store for the perfect bird, searching for a stuffing recipe and generally making a mess for Thanksgiving dinner. I feel guilty, when I realize that this is the most bonding that Charlie and I are ever going to have. To make up for it, I let myself watch the big football game with him, and that's where we are when dinner finishes cooking.

The turkey is crispy, the potatoes are fluffy and the stuffing is just right. We chat good-naturedly, but as he pulls the pudding from the fridge for dessert, we hear a large bang that ripples through the house. As we look around, I see a tall person in a now plaster-covered black cloak. His red eyes flash as he runs into the house again. I would flee, but there's no time. As the ceiling falls on top of me, I realize that I've signed my husband's death sentence-

--

I bolted awake. As my head cleared, I realized that it was still August, Edward and I were still on our honeymoon in Cornwall, and I wasn't going to school. I rolled over, and looked at his face. When I saw the look of love and confusion in his eyes, I burst into tears. He began to cry too, as if my sorrow were an infectious disease. "Oh, Bella, my beautiful Bella, I could practically hear your heart breaking!"

I sobbed hysterically, "Charlie was in danger, and you made me choose between him and you, and I went home, and you wouldn't even say goodbye…" My tears became a wail, and I buried my head in his chest.

He rocked me back and forth for a few minutes, and then took my hands. Kissing them, he said, "I had hoped to put this off until after we returned home, but I think that you need to be nightmare-free as soon as possible."

I looked at him in confusion, and he clasped my hands even tighter. "Bella, it's time. We'll check out in the morning, go camping out on the moors, and after I turn you, we'll go hunting, I promise."

I was suspicious. "You seem awfully prepared for this."

Edward sighed. "I was trying to delay, dearest, but I **have** chosen our honeymoon sites for a reason." I considered. Except for the weekend in Paris, we had stayed in wild places, Inverness outside of Loch Ness, the Highlands, the southern mountains of Ireland, all desolate to the human eye, but teeming with wildlife…

"Tomorrow, I promise." I lay back down, and Edward pulled me close, starting to hum my lullaby. As I drifted off, I realized that the tune had changed. The key was more haunting, the melody more wild, as if the music itself was anticipating what I would become. I would have smiled, but my exhaustion left me content to simply snuggle even closer to my husband. I chanted the mantra in my head: "Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow…" I slept a dreamless sleep.


End file.
